Page 20 of The Work Husband

He’d said his relationship with Ava was well and truly over, consigned to the past, and I’d had no reason to doubt that – until now.

Now, doubt felt like a shadow hanging permanently over me.

So tell him how you feel, the sensible part of me urged. Whatever’s going on with Ava, he needs to understand what it’s doing to you. He’s a decent man – he’ll get it.

But I’d tried, and he hadn’t got it. His apologetic yet stubborn refusal to reveal why she was apparently back in his life – in our lives – was as hurtful as it was confusing.

That’s still no reason to resort to stupid games, sensible Georgia persisted.

I looked back at the exchange of messages on my screen. They were innocent enough – for now. If Sam were to look at my phone (How? I found myself wondering. I’d have to set the time before it went to sleep and required face ID to open again at longer than the current thirty seconds. I’d have to think of a reason for him to look) they’d seem like nothing – or like not much.

I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Not yet. I was just defending what was mine, fighting to save a relationship I valued more than anything in the only way left to me.

As I stared at my phone, flooded by a bewildering mixture of guilt, annoyance and indecision, another message flashed up.

Not Jamie this time. Sam.

Hey you. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be back late tonight. Probably nine or so. I’ll be eating out.

Eating out with who? I didn’t type that, but it was the first thought to spring to my mind. Just a couple of weeks ago, it wouldn’t have been. I’d have thought, That’s nice. Or, Great – I get to eat beans on toast in front of the telly and hog the bathroom having an everything shower.

There was no doubt about it – in the soup of conflicting feelings bubbling through my mind, annoyance was beginning to rise to the surface.

It wasn’t fair. Everything had been so good. I’d been so happy and secure, and now I wasn’t any more.

Hating myself, I typed Why? Are you seeing Ava?

I knew what the answer would be, and seconds later I saw it.

Just the one word. Yes.

Then he added a kiss, which was no comfort to me whatsoever.

Frustration churning inside me, I flicked back to my chat with Jamie. I was conscious that there were a million other things I should have been focussing my attention on: a baby shower needed organising for the daughter of a hedge fund manager; a wealthy Saudi Arabian client wanted a private shopping session arranging for her niece; a rap artist who I was looking after in Jamie’s absence wanted someone who knew about art to bid at an auction on his behalf.

But I couldn’t focus on any of those things. I knew if I emailed the Saudi lady, I’d end up writing Ava instead of Zahra as her niece’s name. I’d probably send the art expert to the wrong auction house on the wrong day.

And there was no way I could even bring myself to think about baby showers right now.

Are you back tonight? I messaged Jamie.

Yep. My flight lands just after five.

Any chance you’re free for a quick drink?

Babe, I’d love to. But I basically haven’t slept since Thursday. I’m running on caffeine and adrenaline, and if I don’t get some kip soon I’ll legit puke. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, okay?

To be honest, I could see his point. Reluctantly, I typed, Okay. Have a safe trip back.

Then I flicked through to Molly’s name in my chats and asked if I could pop round to hers and see Arthur that evening, offering to bring a posh ready meal from M&S so I wouldn’t be any trouble.

It was only once she’d enthusiastically agreed that I looked back at the messages Jamie and I had exchanged and realised afresh that if Sam were to see them, following the picture of the sunrise, they’d look dodgy as hell.

But he wouldn’t see them. Because I wasn’t going to play that game.

Was I?

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